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My Moon Man

Silvery flakes float down, sparkling in the bright
light of the late autumn moon. The blackbird,
seated on a willow branch looks toward the sky.
A single caw escapes its beak, shattering the silence
of the night. The owl on my left, yellow eyes blinking,
hoots a reply. The still air evokes quiet solitude
as the village sleeps, and I sit alone, staring at the moon.
I know the moon is more than the gray, crater
filled rock everyone sees. I want the stars to send me
to the moon, to prove there’s really a man living
there, fishing off the side when it becomes a crescent.
I’ll bring back metallic fish scales. Everyone gets one.
Then they will believe me. Or I could stay forever, forget everyone,
and live with the craters, fish, and stars,
me and my moon man together.